PIECES OF YOU

ONE

Nora stole a glance in her rearview mirror, but all that she found was darkness. She hunched her delicate shoulders over her steering wheel, powering through a translucent fog that lingered just above the pavement. She tried to unclench, but it was a pointless exercise. Her nerves were frayed. She hadn't anticipated leaving Jimmy’s Bar later than ten. Certainly not alone.

Thick towers of trees lined the winding road, surrounding her as if to say You’re not welcome here. Her headlights only allowed for a few feet of visibility, making it impossible to see what lay ahead. In the absence of streetlights and a sliver of moon as her only guide, silhouettes crossed the road and danced past the trees. She quickly tapped her brakes before realizing there was nothing in the street - just her eyes attempting, and failing, to adjust to utter darkness. She slowed her pace and held her eyes open as wide as they’d allow, pressing her fingers harder into the wheel.

She had no choice but to replay the events of the evening in her mind. She’d arrived early at the bar and perched herself in the back booth, excited but flustered to be out of her decidedly small comfort zone. According to Ryan, a sweet, slightly nerdy outdoorsman she’d met online, Jimmy’s Bar in Woodbridge was a halfway meeting point between them. She faced the door so she could see when he came in, smoothing her hair and wringing her hands to stop them from shaking. She’d had a long ride in from Philadelphia and had practiced what she’d say when they finally met in person, making a mental list of conversation points in the case of an awkward moment.

She checked her phone often for a message from him, but a tiny X where bars should be taunted her. She hoped that at least the food would be good since the decor was drab and the tired-looking waitress was rude, but it wasn’t. She eyed each patron sitting at the bartop as she picked at her soggy fries, how they all looked different but somehow exactly the same, forty to fifty-somethings in their tattered t-shirts, downing bottles of beer in near silence. None of them resembled Ryan. She flicked through her screenshots until she got to the sole photo he’d sent her and studied it, comparing it to the men sitting at the bartop. Their eyes were sunken where his were kind. One of the men caught her staring and she quickly averted her eyes, and fished her e-reader out of her purse.

She engrossed herself in a heartbreaking novel as if she had always intended to eat alone, that she hadn’t been stood up, that she had planned to come to a dimly lit bar in the middle of nowhere to catch up on her reading. Her heart lifted each time the door swung open. And then the crushing shame arrived when she finally understood, definitively, that he wasn’t coming.

Though she’d known no one in the room, a self-conscious haze consumed her. She didn’t know why she cared that these strangers might see that she had been stood up, but she did. So she kept reading, and before she knew it, nearly three hours had passed. She finally departed with slumped shoulders, sucking in fresh air as she crossed the threshold, and hurried to her SUV. Woodbridge was isolated from its surrounding cities, and the locals didn’t exactly roll out the welcome mat. They had all done a double-take at her when she entered, making her feel foolish in her favorite low-cut black V-neck, the one that gave her thin frame extra curves and illuminated her bronze hair, her skin-tight olive green pants that matched her eyes, and her stilettos that she could never steadily walk in, no matter how many times she tried.

Her mind began to wander as she drove through the trees, taking in her surroundings. Between the silence and the overwhelm of the night, her thoughts became harder to tame, and she began to indulge them. She’d felt a nagging discomfort at the bar and assumed it was nerves, but maybe it was something more. Had someone been watching her as she read? She instinctively checked for headlights behind her, but the blackness in her wake reaffirmed that no one followed. She shook her head roughly, as if she could shake the bad thoughts out. Focus on the road. Just keep going.

The gentle hum of crickets and a soft whir of wind seeped through her open window. Despite the humidity, the leather from her seat was cold against the backs of her arms, generating tiny, rough goosebumps across her skin. Her hands gripped the wheel tightly at the ten and two position, her eyes flitting back and forth to keep herself apprised of any wildlife that may attempt to dart out in front of her.

Inhale: One, two, three. Exhale: one, two, three she chanted in her head, holding her breath and slowly exhaling, an exercise she’d learned in therapy to keep her anxiety at bay - one that didn’t seem to be doing much for her on this trek. Her stomach tensed as the car hugged the edges of the serpentine street, winding left, then right, then left again as she followed along with the curvature displayed on her GPS, willing the highway to suddenly appear.

She wished she wasn’t alone. She wished she never would have agreed to come out here in the first place. Maybe if she wasn’t so desperate, she would have done as her best friend Erica had advised, and made Ryan come to her. She didn’t want to rock the boat, and it was only fair, meeting halfway. But why would he pick such a strange place to meet? How did he even know a place like that, so far off the beaten path? Now she was hours from home, in a town that, for a reason she couldn’t quite pinpoint, made the hair on the back of her arms stand on end.

A sudden, pale movement, almost an apparition, caused her to gasp aloud as she slammed the brake to the floor and jerked the wheel to the right. Bursting from the trees, draped in a nightgown streaked with blood, a barefoot and frail woman frantically threw herself in front of Nora’s car, as if she meant to be hit. It happened within seconds, but time somehow slowed. Nora veered off the road in panic, a harsh squeal of tires against a silent backdrop, straight toward the woods. She swerved, and for just half a moment locked in with wild, pleading eyes. The figure’s mouth was twisted in a look of haunting desperation. And then came the impact.

Gasping. Crunching. Horn. Then nothing.

Only quiet, and darkness.

TWO

Nora lifted her head, heavy and throbbing, from its resting place on an airbag that had deployed only after her forehead bounced off the top of the wheel. She let out a long groan as she reached for her phone, using her fingers to feel for it through the darkness, but only receipts and nameless gunk were in the console where she normally kept it. It must have been thrown somewhere in the car when she slammed on her brakes, but she couldn’t see where. Her body felt worn, as if she had just been on the losing end of a boxing match. She hoisted her arm above her head with another groan and clicked the emergency button on her OnStar. After a few seconds, Ronaldo from OnStar’s voice flooded her speakers, his deep, soothing voice promising help was on the way. Within minutes, a bustle of paramedics and police officers were barking instructions at her: Don’t move! Can you move? Can you walk? Sit down!

As she sat in the back of the ambulance after the EMTs arrived, red and blue lights painting the black sky, a young paramedic shone a flashlight from left to right as he asked her the date and who the President was. She opened her mouth to answer but stopped as a pair of uniformed officers sauntered up. She stiffened at the sight of them. They seemed unassuming enough - both of them thin and not much older than she was, but she could feel herself clamming up just as she did with any authority figure. She swallowed roughly, her throat dry, as the smaller of the two officers removed a lined notepad from the front pocket of his shirt next to a badge that read Crenshaw.

Name? he asked, and Nora jumped at the harshness of his tone.

Nora. Nora Aberdeen.

You been drinkin’, Miss Aberdeen?

Nora’s eyes widened.

No. No, sir, she stammered. She was telling the truth, but somehow found her hands sweating as she stretched the cotton on her V-neck to cover the breadth of her chest.

How’d this happen, then? He gestured to her SUV, the front bumper crumpled against a large oak tree. She winced and closed her eyes, trying not to think of her mom.

Someone…a girl. A woman, I think. She ran in front of me.

Crenshaw looked quickly at the second officer, whose name tag read Mable. Mable met his gaze with narrowed eyes for half a second before turning his attention back to Nora. She could begin to feel her heart thundering in her chest.

Ma’am, we have a lot of wildlife out here. You probably saw yourself a deer and got spooked, Mable said dismissively, gesturing toward the woods. Crenshaw lifted the pen from his pad.

Nora had never felt so small as she desperately shook her head.

No. It was a woman. She looked like she was in trouble.

Yeah? How do you know that? Mable asked, one eyebrow raised speculatively.

She looked…scared. She was wearing a nightgown. It looked like it could have been… bloody. Maybe she was hurt. She looked like she needed help.

The officers exchanged another silent glance, so quick it was almost indecipherable, but she noticed. Then they carried on.

I don’t know what you think you saw, but there’s nobody out here, miss. I think you oughta get that head checked out. Let these folks do their job. A nod and a condescending smile from Mable, and Crenshaw flicked his notepad shut.

Is that it? Don’t you need more information? Nora asked, panicky.

We’ll meet you at the hospital, once you’re…feeling better. You take care, now.

Nora’s mouth fell agape as they turned and walked back to their cruiser, their boots crunched over the gravel, a hushed conversation she couldn’t make out coming from their direction. She found herself caught in the flurry of people surrounding her, and before she knew it, she was being delivered to a tiny hospital.

As Nora lay in a hospital bed, shivering from cold and adrenaline, she could not shake what she’d seen that had caused her to crash. Though the figure appeared seemingly out of nowhere and she was dressed all in white, it was no ghost. She’d only seen her for a second, so she worked hard at keeping the image alive in her mind. A young woman, so thin she was bony, running directly into the road, almost like she was unaware that she was so close to being struck. Her hair was dark and untamed, and tiny leaves were tangled in the strands. She wore a dirty, sleeveless nightgown, something suited for a person much older than what she looked like. And then there was the blood.

She looked through a murky window at the old plastic clock in the hallway above the empty room that sat across from hers. 1:45 A.M. When were the police going to show up? She arrived at the hospital over an hour ago and hadn't spotted anyone from law enforcement since, and she’d been taking care to check often. All she’d noted was the occasional nurse in faded scrubs hurriedly walking past, as if they were afraid Nora might call to them for aid, their soft white tennis shoes padding quietly over the rundown yellow linoleum until they disappeared down the corridor.

The officers, curiously, did not seem interested in the girl, or the fact that she looked like she might be injured, or why the hell she had been in desolate woods, alone, in the middle of the night. Crenshaw had written a short, indecipherable scribble on his pad. What had they written down? Did they even believe her? She’d tried to protest without sounding pushy. The girl couldn't have made it very far on foot, but Nora doubted that they intended to look for her.

There was no television in her room, not a radio or even amateur art to distract her. Just the dated machine dispensing IV fluids through her left arm, the thin, cold sheets of her uncomfortable bed, and an empty whiteboard that Nora could tell had been erased hundreds of times from the residue left behind. So she put her energy into remembering the details.

Female. Caucasian. Early twenties, if that. Dark hair. White nightgown. How tall was she? The moment she saw her was over so quickly that it had been impossible to tell. And those eyes. The bright green, desperate eyes. The whole thing had felt like an out-of-body experience. Nora ran the details over and over in her mind, nervously biting her lips and cracking her fingers as she sat rigidly against the hospital bed, a dull ache in her back making itself known. She wanted to remember everything she had seen. She’d binged enough true crime documentaries with Erica to understand that eyewitness accounts can be very helpful or very hurtful, depending on the reliability of the witness. She didn't want to be one of those people who she and Erica would laughingly toss popcorn at on the screen as they groaned over their accounts of what happened, as they swore what they testified to seeing was true, only to be proven wrong later.

She shook her head and rolled her eyes. She was getting ahead of herself. The cops actually had to show up, to care, before she needed to worry about her reliability.

Had the officers assumed she was drunk and trying to give an excuse for the accident? She may have been disoriented when she came to, and her head still felt a bit foggy, but she knew what she saw. The way the officers had looked at each other stuck in her mind, and she started to get angry. Nora hadn’t drunk any alcohol at the bar so as to keep her wits about her on her date, so the blood alcohol test she was sure she was given when they drew her blood when she arrived at the hospital would prove that she was sober. But what about the girl? Who knows where she is by now. She felt a pang of guilt that she hadn’t pushed them more to look for her, but the police had always made her uncomfortable, like she was going to get into trouble even though she never broke any rules. She was always careful to respect authority, but maybe this situation had called for a little push-back. If she’d just been a little more assertive, sounded a little different, maybe they would have believed her.

Maybe she sounded like she was making it up. She was shy and intimidated by the police presence, and felt guilty that she’d caused so many people to come to check on her. It hadn’t seemed necessary for that many people to show up just for a one-person accident. The attention had made her uncomfortable, and the combination of paramedics barking orders and the police asking her questions so rapidly had made her lightheaded and flustered; she was sure it made her sound uncertain of her answers. If she could have made herself sound more believable, more self-assured...maybe they would have searched. Would have done something.

The more Nora thought about the girl running in the road, the more it made her blood run cold. What was she doing out there, all alone in her nightgown? She didn’t remember seeing any houses for miles. Didn’t she see my headlights? And why was there blood on her gown?

Was it blood? She started to second guess herself. It could have been...dirt? Oh God, she thought, annoyed with herself. Get your shit together.

Another nurse walked by her room, and she called out to her.

Excuse me? Nurse? Do you know if the police are here yet? Her soft voice cracked.

The nurse, ruddy faced and stocky, stopped in her doorway and narrowed her eyes as she rested a hand on her hip.

Police? She sounded confused and irritated, disheveled though Nora was certain she was one of the only patients in the hospital.

They told me they would meet me here to get my statement from the accident.

Oh. Never heard that one. I'll check in the front. The nurse once again disappeared into the corridor. As she watched her go, Nora had the distinct feeling that the nurse wasn't going to be checking anything, and that she wouldn't be seeing her again.

Of course she had never heard that one. She lived in a Podunk town where probably nothing ever happened. Maybe when someone accidentally shot a hunter, or got run over by a tractor, then she’d actually have to do something at work. She had a slight chuckle to herself, but instantly felt remorseful for thinking like that.

She felt her eyes grow heavy as she fought the longing to start bawling. She wanted her mom; the one person she couldn’t have. She imagined her reaction. Angry at the police for not listening to Nora. Angry at Nora for trying to meet up with someone she’d never met in person. Baffled and worried, asking Nora way more questions about the girl she’d nearly struck than the police had. But she’d be scared, more than anything, for Nora. She’d hug her, she’d cup her head in her tiny hands, she’d grip Nora’s hand and not let go until Nora told her to and assured her she was fine. Tears welled in her eyes, but she wiped them away as quickly as they came. She couldn’t go down that road right now. As badly as she needed her mother, she’d learned long ago to push through. But she knew she didn’t want to be alone anymore.

She instinctively went to grab her phone from the bedside table, then realized that she had never retrieved it from wherever it had flown in her car. Shit. She was sure they were towing her car at that very moment, and then who knows if she would ever get her phone back? She reached for the hospital landline, and dialed a number she knew by heart.

Eli? It's me. Sorry to wake you, she said, even more meekly than she’d intended to sound.

You didn't wake me, Eli said. She searched his voice for signs of heavy sleep, for a stifled yawn, but found nothing.

She checked the time again. It was past two in the morning by now. She rolled her eyes to the ceiling and shook her head, silently wincing at the thought of his nighttime activities with other women.

Oh, okay. Umm. I got into an accident. Her face crumpled in shame, as if it were her fault.

Oh, my god. Are you okay? Where are you? There was panic in his voice, melting away Nora’s annoyance.

I'm fine, really, I am. But I'm going to need a ride out of here in the morning, and to be honest with you, I'm a little creeped out being in the hospital alone.

Tell me where you are. I'll come right now.

She hesitated.

I'm in...Woodbridge...

"Woodbridge?" Eli sounded disgusted, like he had been forced to say a dirty word. "What the hell are you doing in Woodbridge?"

Look, I'll explain when you get here. I know it’s far. You don't have to come right now if you want to sleep until tomorrow morning... She trailed off, not meaning what she was saying, knowing that he wouldn't let her sit in the hospital alone.

I'm coming right now.

Nora smiled faintly, and she was sure Eli could hear how relieved she was, but she was too tired to care. Thank you. Room 212.

Nora sensed a presence in her room. Eli was there - she knew it before she opened her eyes.

She peeled her eyelids open and let her vision adjust. Amber eyes smiled down sympathetically at her.

"Hey, Eli whispered softly. How are you feeling?" He grabbed her hand in both of his, and she felt her face flush.

From how gently he was speaking, she assumed she must look pretty beaten up. The longer she lay in the hospital bed, the weaker she felt, but now that he was here, she wanted Eli to see her as strong, as a survivor.

She glanced at the clock. 4:30. She must have fallen asleep without realizing it. Philadelphia was over two hours away. She did the math in her head, smiling to herself as she realized that Eli must have left as soon as she called.

I'm fine. I'm sore, and I'm exhausted. But I really am okay. She smiled meekly as she carefully hoisted her body back up to a seated position, the pain in her back steadily turning from dull to piercing.

What the hell happened? He laid a hand gently on the back of her head, fingers nestled in the thickness of her hair, but she wasn’t able to enjoy the sweet moment. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. She had momentarily forgotten what put her in the hospital in the first place.

Oh, my god, Eli. This girl darted in front of me while I was driving! she exclaimed, waving her hands excitedly as she spoke. I had to swerve so I didn't hit her, and I went straight into a tree. Thank God I didn't hit it harder. I really think I could have died. She didn’t know if that was true, but she needed him to understand the weight of what happened.

Jesus. Is the girl okay?

No idea. She shook her head in disgust. When I came to, she was gone. I tried to tell the cops about her and they didn't want to hear it. They were supposed to come talk to me here but they haven't yet. Nora started to realize that if they hadn't come by now, they weren't coming. She shook her head again in irritation. Whatever. I'm sure they just thought I was drunk and making it up.

Did they give you a breathalyzer?

No.

Hmm.

Nora looked straight into Eli's eyes. She had already been written off by the police, and she wanted him to take what she was about to say seriously.

Listen. She cleared her throat. I'm pretty sure something happened to that girl.

Eli looked at her quizzically.

What do you mean?

She paused, leaned back in her bed and sighed.

She was bloody.

Are you sure?

Yes. I'm sure.

She did not want what she saw to be true, but she knew all too well how an inconvenient truth operates. It wraps its spidery limbs around your neck and suffocates you until you’re forced to acknowledge its presence. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"Eli...she looked like she was running from someone."

THREE

Nora's eyes slowly opened, her lids heavy with exhaustion. For a moment, she didn't know where she was. As her sight adjusted, she saw Eli to the right of her bed by the window, sleeping in a dingy orange chair with his head cocked, nestled on his fist. The prior night's events came flooding back to her and a knot instantly formed in her stomach. Her spine straightened, and a fresh jolt of adrenaline gave her enough energy to climb out of her bed, tugging along the machine dispensing fluids into her veins.

She padded quietly to the bathroom so as not to wake Eli. As she flicked on the lightswitch, she was taken aback at the face